


Stiles Pole Dances, Derek Drools

by brebit6



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Bathroom Sex, Blowjobs, Boyfriends in love, Brief mention of Boyd and Erica, Come Inflation, Derek handles that shit so fast, Established Relationship, Harassment, Knotting, Love Confessions, M/M, Mostly Smut, Sex, Smut, big time, but like, drooling Derek, for like 2 seconds, mention of MPREG, pole-dancing Stiles, sterek, they already know they love each other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-09
Updated: 2018-10-09
Packaged: 2019-07-28 17:51:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16246769
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brebit6/pseuds/brebit6
Summary: Derek finds out Stiles is actually incredibly graceful on a pole. This leads to fun times.





	Stiles Pole Dances, Derek Drools

**Author's Note:**

> This is based on a post I saw on tumblr by @allourheroes which they wrote based on the words pole, jungle, and warrant. 
> 
> I did not use their exact drabble, this is all my own, but I used their idea :D (I asked permission) Also many many thanks to my bestie for reading this and actually encouraging me to finish it despite my writers block!
> 
> Hope you all enjoy it!
> 
> My tumblr is @superwhumper06 if you wanna scream at me ;)

      Derek can’t stop staring. Stiles’ hip are doing this- this _thing_. They’re swaying but _not_ swaying at the same time, moving up and down, so _very_ close to that pole. Not to mention the fact that Stiles is staring at him with those _eyes_ and that _smirk_ and his god damn… _everything_! It’s intoxicating.  
      He can’t hear anything other than the throbbing beat of the music through the club, the tantalizing rhythm of Stiles’ heart, his own heart pounding in his chest. He’s pretty sure Erica and Boyd are videotaping him but he just does not care…at all. Because Stiles is staring right at him now, his bottom lip pulled between his teeth in a way that makes Derek’s insides go all fuzzy. Even his wolf is completely speechless, stock-still inside Derek’s mind.  
      Stiles reaches up with one arm, left leg wrapping gloriously around the pole, his other leg straight up in a split and Derek’s mouth waters. Stiles is… _gorgeous_ up there. The bedazzled spandex accentuating his nice round ass, his moles standing out against his pale skin, and by God…the sweat gathering in a pool in the small of his back looks good enough to lick. Even his hair, tousled into its usual casual messy look, makes Derek’s insides quiver. He’s got half a mind to go up there and yank him off the stage before anyone else can enjoy the view as much as he does.  
      He licks his lips, watches as Stiles twirls around the pole once more, then lifts both legs into the air into a v-shape, the pole snug in between Stiles’ thick, muscled thighs. Derek finds himself holding his breath when Stiles climbs back down to the floor, all grace and predatory gaze, and Derek’s dick is absolutely interested in what is going on. He reaches down to readjust himself, hoping that at least it’ll release some of the pressure, but then Stiles gets on his hands and knees and starts fucking _crawling_ towards Derek, who is still completely frozen and standing in the exact same spot he’d started in, and Derek is _trembling_.  
      The world closes in around him, nothing but his and Stiles’ heartbeats breaking through the fog in his mind. Only one thought is bouncing around his head right now. One word constantly flashing in his head like a huge neon sign: MATE.  
      Which…that’s new, but _definitely_ not wrong.  
Stiles’ scent drifts towards him, that sweet aroma of chocolate and warm cinnamon tickling his nose, and Derek is lost in the smell, reminded of days spent lazily relaxing on the couch while the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls flooded the living room. He feels a hand on his face…when had he closed his eyes? He opens them to find Stiles’ brilliant amber eyes projecting sex and promises that Derek is more than willing to accept.  
      Derek is so lost in Stiles’ eyes, in his scent, in his body, that he doesn’t smell the obnoxious amounts of alcohol coming off the man that had just sidled up next to him, or realize that said man is currently spouting off obscenities that even Peter Hale would flush at. It isn’t until the man runs a grubby hand up Stiles’ thigh that Derek snaps on him, turning to glare with full Alpha Glare Mode (Stiles’ words, not his) while yanking the arm away from Stiles’ bare leg. The man doesn’t even flinch. In fact, he just laughs, then gets all up in Derek’s face…and threatens him. What even?  
Derek is mid shift when he feels Stiles hand wrap around the base of his neck, squeezing firmly but gently. He immediately relaxes, lets Stiles scent travel over him once more, but he keeps his eyes their alpha red, because this man just touched his mate. Derek will not allow it. Instead, he turns and pulls Stiles off the stage and into his arms, holding him firm against his chest.  
      “Keep your filthy fucking hands off my boyfriend you disgusting piece of meat.” He feels Stiles chuckle against his chest, but the man just hiccups, his drink sloshing out of his cup and all over his hand, and turns towards the bar. Derek watches him walk away, still wanting to tear the mans throat out. With his teeth. But…Stiles says that’s “not polite” or something.  
      “You know,” Stiles says, turning in Derek’s arms to face him and wrap his arms around Derek’s waist, “I love it when you get all growly like _that_.” Stiles punctuates the end of his sentence with a firm grasp around Derek’s cock and Derek’s mind goes completely blank, his gasp catching in his chest. Stiles just smirks, the look on his face showing he knows exactly what he’s doing to Derek’s mental stability.  
      Derek’s hips buck into Stiles’ hand, finally, _finally_ relieving some of the pressure that had built up through Stiles entire pole dancing routine. Derek makes a mental note to buy a pole for the house, which comes right after his note to buy Stiles his favorite breakfast and coffee.  
      Stiles’ eyes are gleaming with mirth, and Derek’s had enough. In one swift movement, Derek picks Stiles up and relishes in the way Stiles automatically wraps his strong legs around Derek’s waist. Stiles smashes their mouths together and Derek immediately opens up for the skilled tongue he knows so well while expertly navigating his way through the crowd. No one else matters in this moment. It’s just Derek and Stiles. Derek and his _mate_.  
      A low rumble makes its way through his chest, and he chokes on it when Stiles bites his lip, pulling it into his mouth, sucking on Derek’s lower lip. Every time Stiles does that Derek’s knees go weak and dammit if he didn’t love the idea of just fucking Stiles into the floor of the club, not a care about the people surrounding them. Luckily though, neither one of them actually want to risk public nudity or the consequences that go along with it. Also, Derek really doesn’t want to share Stiles. At all.  
      By the time Derek makes it to the bathroom, his dick is straining against the zipper of his jeans and he can feel Stiles’ equally hard cock rubbing against his stomach, the fabric of his bedazzled spandex scratchy and annoying. Derek shoves Stiles into the wall, barely remembering to lock the door before grabbing both of Stiles’ arms and shoving them above his head, opening up all of that beautiful pale skin for Derek’s eager mouth.  
      Stiles throws his head back, revealing that long line of his neck that Derek so loved to bite and suck on, and Derek buries his face there, sucking a bruise into Stiles’ neck. Stiles gasps in his ear and bucks up into Derek, inadvertently rubbing their straining cocks together and Derek bites back a growl. Heat surrounds them, completely smothers them until all they can feel is each other, where they touch, where they should be touching. Derek presses closer, licking his way down Stiles’ chest, making sure to take his time with each pert nipple. Stiles moans and impatiently pushes his hips forward, whining in that way that tells Derek to _get a move on already_. So Derek does.  
      He lets Stiles legs fall to the floor, and when he knows Stiles won’t fall over, Derek gets on his knees. Stiles is breathing hard and Derek can feel his hands in his hair. Excitement shoots through him and he noses at the little puff of hair trailing down Stiles’ stomach, reveling in the softness. Derek brings his hands up Stiles’ legs, over his ankles, his lean but strong calf muscles, the backs of his thighs. He cups Stiles’ ass with both hands, loving the way that Stiles’ ass fits perfectly into his hands. He lets his thumbs poke up through the bottoms of Stiles’ tight shorts and lets his fangs fall because he knows it’ll drive Stiles crazy.  
      Derek takes a minute to admire the view, but he is promptly shoved back into reality when Stiles yanks his hair just this side of painful. Derek smirks, lets his fangs poke out and absolutely loves the way Stiles’ pupils widen and the breathy moan that escapes him. Derek mouths around the outline of Stiles’ straining cock, adding pressure, taking pressure. He makes Stiles _squirm_.  
      “C’mon Der…that’s enough-fuck get on with it!” Derek uses his teeth to pull Stiles shorts down to his knees and watches the way Stiles’ rock hard cock bobs out of its restraint. Derek kneads his hands up Stiles’ thighs until they rest on Stiles’ hips.  
      “Stay still for me babe.”  
      “Yeah Der-just…fuck, just do _something_.”  
      Derek sucks Stiles down in one movement, all the way to the back of his throat. Luckily for him, being a werewolf and all, his gag reflex is practically nonexistent, and he loves it. Stiles’ mouth drops open on a moan and his head falls back against the wall. Derek sucked Stiles down like his life depended on it, and by God it probably did. The absolutely orgasmic taste of Stiles threatens to overwhelm him every time he does this, but not once has he let it stop him.  
      He loves the way Stiles’ cock is shorter but still full and the velvety way it slides down his throat and through his lips. He’s been told on several occasions that his lips look good “fucked open,” whatever that means. He pulls off Stiles’ cock, rolls his tongue around the tip, and sucks, delighting in the pre-come that follows. He moans as he takes Stiles’ cock in all the way and he feels Stiles tense up, his fingers squeezing in his hair just enough to hurt.  
      “Fuck—Der, I’m gonna…I’m gonna c—“  
       He doesn’t get to finish that sentence. Derek tongues the slit of Stiles’ cock and then takes him all the way down while humming and that always pushes Stiles right over the edge.  
      Warm come floods Derek’s mouth and he swallows it greedily, savoring the salty-sweet taste of Stiles. Stiles trembles above him and Derek sucks him until he feels Stiles hands pulling him up off the floor. Stiles doesn’t hesitate to kiss him, not caring that the Derek’s tongue still had cum coating it.  
      “We’re going home. Now. I needed you in me like yesterday.” Stiles grabs his hand and pulls them from the stall before Derek can even remind him that his shorts are still around his knees and Stiles trips, almost falling face first into the disgusting linoleum floor of the club bathroom.  
      “You should probably put some clothes on first.”  
      “No time! Give me your jacket. Erica and Boyd can get my clothes.” He at least has the decency to pull his shorts back up before walking back out into the rowdy noise of the club. Derek wraps his jacket around Stiles’ shoulders and leads him outside, in a hurry to finally bury his cock into Stiles’ tight ass. And also to no longer be in a place that smells of sweat and booze.  
      A group of giggling girls get out of a taxi down the street so Derek points them over to it, waving it down. Derek ignores the looks the girls cast at him, but he feels himself growling deep in his chest when one of them starts looking at Stiles too close. Stiles just chuckles and steps into the cab.  
When Derek finally gets in, after glaring a few more seconds at the girls, Stiles immediately curls up next to him, laying his head on Derek’s shoulder.  
      Derek’s erection is finally beginning to flag, not as uncomfortable as it had been, but that was before Stiles started sucking on his earlobe, one of Derek’s many sensitive spots. He gasps, feeling his dick perk up once more. Stiles throws a leg over Derek’s thighs, straddling him in the backseat of the taxi cab.  
      “We can’t- aH, we can’t do this…here- ah, ah!” Stiles bites down on Derek’s ear and he can’t help but cry out softly. Pleasure shoots through him, gathering at the base of his dick, and he’s completely hard now. Stiles snakes a hand between them, fondling Derek’s cock through his pants and Derek is gasping at the relief, the pleasure cascading over him. Just when he thinks he could come, the driver clears his throat awkwardly. Both Stiles and Derek realize that they’re stopped in front of their house now. Stiles climbs out of the cab and leaves a flushing Derek to pay the tab.  
After Derek pays the tab, plus extra for reasons, he hurries into the house and follows the scent of Stiles and sex. He finds him on all fours on their bed, fingers already working into his sopping hole. Derek almost came from the sight alone, his wolf rumbling possessively in his chest to take, claim, mate. He was halfway to the bed before he realized he’d already stripped out of his clothes, his dick finally free to hang heavy between his legs.  
       He stalks the rest of the way to the bed, his mouth watering at the sight of Stiles’ hole all spread and open for him, dripping with lube, three of Stiles’ fingers buried deep in his ass. He doesn’t hesitate to grab Stiles’ hand and lead it away so that he can have unhindered access to Stiles’ hole. He lines himself up and shoves in slow and persistent until he’s buried to the hilt in Stiles’ tight hole.  
Stiles moans long and loud and Derek feels it in his bones, the pleasure sparking in his gut sending blood straight for his already straining cock. He rolls his hips, pulling out a little then pushing back in, setting up a rhythm. Stiles’ breathy gasps go straight to Derek’s dick and it takes everything in him not to come right this instant. Stiles squeezes around him and he has to hold his breath against the building pleasure. The base of his cock is beginning to thicken and he knows he’s close.  
      He sets a pounding rhythm then, feels his hips slapping against Stiles’ ass, reveling in the moans that escape Stiles every time he thrusts forward. His knot catches on Stiles’ rim, and he shoves it in, locking it in place, and loses himself to the mindless pleasure that has taken over his body, his mind, his everything. Thick spurts of come escape him, pulsing into Stiles’ quivering hole. Stiles milks him, squeezing his ass together on Derek’s knot, pulling more and more come from him until he feels like he’s completely empty.  
Derek shudders and collapses to the side, pulling Stiles tight into his chest, still stuck deep inside of him. He loves this part of sex. The part where they cuddle on the bed, breathing hard, where he can suck in full breaths of their mingled scents. Stiles squeezes around him again and he’s shocked to feel another spurt of come coat Stiles’ insides, the pleasure making him moan into the back of Stiles’ neck.  
      “Feels so good, sourwolf. So full…I love you.”  
      Derek caresses Stiles’ belly where he can see the bulge from the obnoxious amount of come inside of him, lets himself imagine what it would be like if Stiles was completely swollen with pups, and falls into a deep sleep, but not before whispering “I love you, too, my beautiful mate.”

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked it, awesome!
> 
> If not, tell me why and I’ll consider your suggestions when writing future works!


End file.
